• Early one day, an elderly man's daughter came to see him. Along with her came a bright eyed young girl, the man's granddaughter. Her hair was a pale blonde, and her eyes a glistening blue. They were filled with curiosity.
    Every time the little girl was brought over, the two would play games together. There was a closet behind his large recliner filled with board games to the brim. Their favorite game was Sorry.
    "Hey, you cheated!" he always told the young girl when she beat him.
    "I did not, grandpa! You're just a sore loser!" she'd reply with a giggle. Their arguments could go on for hours.
    After their game of Don't Break The Ice, the grandfather told the girl he had a surprise for her. Hearing this, her eyes widened. She loved surprises.
    "What is it grandpa?" she asked, excitement in her words.
    "Just follow me and you'll find out."
    The girl did what he said and followed him onto the front porch. There, ha pointed to a bush sprouting from the ground. "You see that?"
    She nodded.
    "That right there is yours."
    The girl was confused. "What is it?" she asked.
    "A rose bush, just for you."
    She blinked once. Twice. A smile appeared on her face, growing wider and wider. She has always wanted a rose bush all to herself. Throwing her arms around the old man's waist, the little girl exclaimed, "I love you, grandpa!"

    The years went by, and the little girl grew older and older. Her hair darkened and eyes brightened, her features finally showing. She was no longer the little girl she was before. Her visits to her grandfather's house became rare, for she was distracted by other things. The times she did go over, she would just sit on the couch and talk. Her grandmother had thrown out the vast array of board games.
    She slowly began to notice that, as she was growing older, so was her grandfather. It was hard for him to walk, and he had trouble staying focused on certain things. Though, she paid no attention.
    A few months later, her mother reported that he had fallen in the hallway multiple times, unable to get up without support. Bruises were found all over his body.
    He was put into a hospital.
    As usual, the girl's visits were scarce and short. She didn't have much time on her hands anymore. She'd sit for a few minutes and talk with him, or just sit and let him sleep. His birthday past, and she brought him a cake and a crystal angel. He had her set it in the window.
    At the hospital, they weren't able to do much. A few tubes stuck into him and they left him. Over time, he refused to eat anything they gave him. He wanted out.
    Her mother, concerned as she was, put him into a rehabilitation home. He was not happy with this. He'd whine and cry out, begging to be released. Of course, that wasn't going to happen. They needed him to stay there.
    He began to lose his memory. He forgot his own daughter. He almost even forgot about the little girl.
    She came in one day to see him, worried about his condition. They had to put him through exercises to help him with his walking, since he also forgot how to do that.
    That day, before they left, she gave him a hug, and he said quietly, "I love you." The girl started to weep, but quietly said it back, choking on her own tears. She practically had to be carried out of the building.
    A few weeks later, her mother called her, announcing that he had passed away. Again, she began to choke on her tears.
    They had the funeral on a Friday, and the tension in the air was thick. Her mother had gotten into an argument with her youngest sister, and all hell was breaking loose.
    She just stayed off to the side, keeping quiet.
    The ceremony was full of sadness, a large group of people gathered together to talk about a deceased loved one. After speeches were over and done with, everyone got to see him one last time. The girl walked up, to see her loving grandfathers face. He looked more alive when dead. It was if he was going to pop out of the coffin and yell, "Gotcha!" She walked away, clinging to her parents.

    Only a year or so has passed since the funeral, but she could never forget about what he had done for her. Once the funeral had passed, they went to her grandmother's house, only to see that the rose bushes had died. When his soul left, so did those bushes.
    The girl now clings to the few yellow roses she finds, putting them in a vase on her shelf so she can always remember him. Remember his face.
    Remember his love.